If it Had Been Collect
by Aeditimi Scriba
Summary: Headmaster of the school that bears his name, Charlie reminisces with Todd about the things they learned at Wellton, and the people they both miss. Also, he puts to rest the mystery of the Dalton Academy uniforms. "Seriously, all boys?"


**If it Had Been Collect** a _Dead Poets Society Fan Fic, with crossover. _

Because the similarities were just freaking me out.

(I don't own these characters, or the ones they reference, although I miss the former, and would love to own the [suitably of age] latter)

* * *

><p>The secretary's tone was hesitant over the intercom. "Doctor Dalton? There's someone here to see you." She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. "I think he's a Senator."<p>

"Thanks Katherine." Charlie Dalton slid his feet off the polished oak desk where they had been propped, stood and stretched the kinks from his legs before crossing the room and pulling open the door. From the doorway to the Headmaster's office he looked out into the waiting room, where Connecticut's very junior Senator glanced up from his perusal of the glass cases and their rows of class pictures. _If you listen closely, you can hear them whisper their legacy to you._

The Senator's face had lost much of its boyish roundness, but maintained the wide honesty that had certainly endeared his constituents. His navy blue suit was tasteful but not overly stuffy, and his shoes were scuffed slightly around the toes.

"Senator Anderson!" Charlie strode to him, extending a hand in greeting.

The Senator took the proffered hand and shook it warmly, but pulled a face. "Doctor Dalton. Please don't call me that."

"Todd," Charlie said then.

"Nwanda," Todd replied, the corners of his mouth quirking, and they threw their arms around each other, thumping one another on the back.

"So what in the world brings you to Ohio?" Charlie asked.

"I'm putting in a campaign appearance with Greg to help boost his numbers. I hope."

Charlie humphed a laugh. "I hope he doesn't pull your polls down! Guilt by association."

"But look at you," Todd said. "Look at this place. I can't believe I haven't been out here before."

Charlie was particularly proud of his school, which was why he'd remained on as Headmaster instead of taking the position the Board had offered him last year as Chairman Emeritus. "What do you think?"

"Well, the uniforms are giving me flashbacks," Todd said with a grin. "And seriously, all boys?"

Charlie laughed. "I suppose it does seem a little out of character. I keep a phone line open in case God wants to call and tell me to admit girls." _If it had been collect… _

"Actually," Todd offered with a chuckle, "I think my cousin's kid goes here. He's an Anderson, too."

"No shit; small world!" Charlie racked his mental notes of students for an Anderson. "Does he sing?"

Todd shrugged. "Think so."

"We had an Anderson in our a cappella group, but he transferred to the public school. Damn shame. What a voice."

"All boys. A cappella groups. Gothic architecture. Snazzy black and red uniforms. You're killing me, man."

Charlie sobered a little. "I guess, for all its faults, Hellton had an impact on me. I got a good education there. Learned a lot about myself."

Todd smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Me too. But I think that had more to do with him."

_Everyone in this room will one day grow old, stop breathing, and die. _They were both quiet for a moment.

"It's great to see you, Todd. How long has it been?" Charlie asked. He knew— knew exactly how long it had been since they'd last seen each other, and where.

"Since Keating's memorial service," Todd said softly, and Charlie nodded. It was good just to hear someone else say it.

"You got a couple of hours?" Charlie asked. "I'll buy you a drink. We can toast to old times." He paused, then added, "And Neil. And Keating."

Todd shuffled his feet and glanced at his watch. "I don't know, Charlie. I've got this appointment with Greg's office…" He trailed off, his eyes back on the glass cases. "Oh, what the hell," he said. "You only live once."

Charlie was already grabbing his coat from the hook by the door. "_Carpe Diem_, my friend. I'll drive."


End file.
